


Pragmatic Sanction

by edelscribe



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Austrian War of Succession, Blood and Violence, Broken Bones, Captor Prussia, Gunshot Wounds, Historical Hetalia, Knifeplay, M/M, Prisoner of War Austria, Temporary Character Death, but really not sexual, canonverse, mentions of Spaus, sort of? they're immortals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:34:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24822418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edelscribe/pseuds/edelscribe
Summary: He should have listened to his General, but he had been holed up in that camp for weeks holding siege, and what harm could a little reconnaissance do?Austria makes a fatal mistake during the Austrian War of Succession and pays for it with his blood.Based on artwork by capi-sskk on Tumblr
Relationships: Austria/Prussia (Hetalia)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Pragmatic Sanction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Captain_Solsikke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Solsikke/gifts).



> Do mind the tag about graphic depictions of violence!
> 
> This is my first fic of this slightly darker nature, examining the violent nature of the PruAus relationship following the rise of Prussia to European dominance and Austria from the rubble of his Habsburg marriage. And also an excuse to write this sort of thing.

“We shot him and he didn’t die, Beilschmidt, we think he’s like you.”

Of all of the names Austria might have wished for the human guards digging rifles into his jaw and clutching at his jacket to have said, that one was fairly low down his list. ‘Bonnefoy’ would have been decently tolerable, since France tended to prefer humiliation of prisoners, and was over-eager to share a glass of wine if the mood struck him. ‘Carriedo’ would have been painful, for their wounds barely had 30 years on them to heal, and the Spaniard was too often drunk on bloodlust, but he preferred to be cruel than violent. But ‘Beilschmidt’? Well.

The flow of blood from his collar was beginning to slow now, a sluggish ebb of coagulating blood that left his mind feeling slow and heavy, unable to wipe it for the hands bound at the base of his spine. Regardless, Prussia seemed to care little. Words from the guards sounded distant and quiet, but when Prussia spoke it cut through the air, ending any conversation.

“Send word to the King that I have him. Leave us.” 

Three sets of feet padded out of the cobbled room, followed by the slam of a solid door and hushed voices. 

Austria stood still, hands tight behind his back and white uniform rumbled by his continued fight against the guards, stained down the front by viscous red. Prussia looked impeccable, though far more casual, strapped with weapons but only in an undershirt. Neither of them moved for a moment in the ringing silence before Prussia’s face split to reveal sharp teeth. 

“You know...” He drawled, weighing each word on his tongue as he regarded Austria like a tomcat with his first kill, trying to work out exactly what he was supposed to do now, but knowing whatever it was, it was going to be good. “You know, when you slipped away on Tuesday, I really thought that would be the last I’d be seeing of you. And really, I can’t complain if the image of you spattered in your own blood was the last I saw, but this is- “

Austria had grown bored of his voice, ending the self-obsessed rambling. “If I do recall correctly, I took my leave because I had removed your arm from the elbow down. I’m glad to see it’s looking more intact.”

Prussia seethed, “You know how much I hate stitches.” 

“Well I’d rather hoped you would bleed out before they could give you any, and I’d be spared your presence for the week or so it took for your King to find your restored state and drag you back.”

“Then it appears,” Prussia mused, “that today is not your lucky day, but rather mine. And though I should rather like to execute you on the spot, I do need information from you, and we both know how that is going to go.”

Austria knew he should have listened to his General, but he had been holed up in that camp for weeks holding siege, and what harm could a little reconnaissance do? Much, it appeared, as Prussian soldiers had been doing much the same and had unfortunately caught them off guard. Austria had always been famously bad at playing dead, and they had known in moments. 

Compared to the Austrians, the Prussian army seemed to be living it up within this fortress, and it concerned Austria that despite how long they’d been laying siege, Prussia looked no more malnourished than he usually did with his gaunt face and thin lips. Not that Austria had any leg to stand on in a conversation about appearing hollowed-out.

There was no version of events where Austria left this fortress alive, of course. That was totally improbable. The two of them were deep in the belly of it, in some cold room standing high off of the earth in which his rival seemed to be living. Vaguely, Austria mused that this scarcely decorated and unwelcoming room suited the man opposite, lacking personality and any sense of class. No sudden victory would save him now, and in a scenario where imperial canons suddenly managed to flatten the walls, Austria was sure Prussia would kill him before he even had a chance to hear the drums of his army, purely out of spite.

No, this was a problem of his own causing, he had made his bed and he was going to lie in it. There was only one solution really, and that was to anger Prussia enough that the bastard accidentally killed him before he could get the information out that he wanted.

“Pay attention to me,” Prussia barked, and the butt of a pistol connected with Austria’s temple in a sickening crack. His body followed though, stumbling slightly with no hands to catch his fall. Blood loss didn’t particularly help, and the only reason Austria remained vaguely upright was the chair he’d stumbled against.

“My apologies,” Austria managed to choke out when he’s swallowed the metallic taste of blood in his mouth and the room had ceased its determined spinning, though the blossoming pain was hardly the distraction from his gunshot wound he’d been hoping for. “I was simply thinking about how much I would prefer you to be Spain.”

And, dear lord, if that didn’t earn him another crack, and this time his knees really did give way, prettily symmetrical trails of blood running from each temple and making his hearing sound vague and distant. Austria was vaguely aware his glasses had disappeared, but only because Prussia crushed them under his boot with a sound rather too delicate for their situation.

Austria knelt still for a moment, breathing heavily, and doing his best to force down any sounds of agony he was experiencing. His continued consciousness could only be credited to his nation status, for Prussia was growing worrisomely physically strong these past years. 

“Yeah, yeah, you miss his fucking cock. We all know this, all of fucking Europe knows this, believe me,” Prussia seethed, “I swear he only wants the Northern Italian states to get your attention.”

Austria made a vague sound of contemplation, for he hadn’t considered that, and might have given it a little more thought if he wasn’t being hauled up by a suitably ruined ascot and inspected.

After watching Austria slow blink at him for a moment, Prussia sighed through his nose. “You’ve got more important things to consider right now than Spain. Bigger things,” he leered, leaning in close and tilting up Austria’s chin with the tip of his pistol. Austria could smell whatever rose wash Prussia was wearing, and it almost made him laugh at the absurdity of such a scent in this place. “See, that’s much better. Looking like a red-faced virgin with all your blood rushing to your head. Reckon if I shot your dick it’d do the same?”

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Austria replied with a wet cough, red spittle staining his lips. 

“Yeah, yeah, alright. There are far more interesting places I can put holes in you, huh?” Prussia asked, shifting his hand to take a grip of Austria’s neck.

This finally seemed to encourage Austria enough to fight back, the tight grip digging into the bullet-hole that was barely scabbed making him choke out a cry. Skeletal hands gripped at his bonds, but the real kicker was the force of his knee into Prussia’s groin.

Prussia dropped him at once and the brunette stumbled back a few paces. “God, you’re going to pay for that.” He seethed, straightening up remarkably quickly and striding towards Austria. 

Dizzy from blood loss and adrenaline, it wasn’t much of a feat for Prussia to yank Austria by the hair and force him face down into the floor, returning the kick in kind to his stomach so the nation dropped flat to the floor and Prussia could plant his heavy boot firmly on his back, forcing out a choking sound as the air was knocked out of him.

Hips smarting from their connection with the uneven floor, and neck aching in pain as it was pulled back by the hair, there really was little Austria could do but kick the ground in irritation. 

“Much fucking better,” Prussia sighed as he settled into position, using his superior physical size to press down on his back and keep him in place.

“Alright, alright,” he continued, taking a deep breath, seemingly still adjusting his throbbing testes, and trying to focus on the matter in hand, or rather, under foot. “They’ll have my fingernails if I don’t get any information out of you, so you’re gonna talk for me, I’m gonna listen, and then you can go back to pretending you can fight me until you bleed out on my knife, okay?”

“I’m not talking.”

“Like hell you aren’t. This can either be unpleasant, or very unpleasant, so pick your poison, Österreich,” Prussia grinned, leaning down to kneel on the nation and force their eyes to meet with another determined tug of his hair. “I’ve got all day…”

Austria shifted, trying to assess his situation, but with his hands bound behind his back he had no leverage to throw Prussia off. It enraged him, privately, to be so disadvantaged to a man he had long considered his inferior. “I don’t speak dog,” he simply snapped upon realising he was cornered.

“You’re clinging to a little bit of spine. I think you’re the dog here, terrified and trembling, barking with no bite.”

The Prussian forced his fingers into Austria’s mouth, tasting of nothing much but soap and salt, and pulling back his lip to show teeth, making a teasing attempt for his tongue that was met with a snap of teeth and a grunt of irritation from the man pinned below him.

Austria was painfully aware of the cold floor against his chest, overly prominent ribs screaming bloody murder for the way they were rammed into the stone, panting raggedly to keep some semblance of control over his body. “Bastard.” He replied simply.

Prussia grinned. “Very unpleasant way, then.” He said, wiping Austria’s saliva over his cheek, gripping him by the back of the head, and slamming his face firmly into the ground.

A cry split the air as his nose was suitably broken, blood pouring onto the floor beneath him and filling his throat. Prussia held his face slightly above the floor, breathing wetly against his ear and watching raptly until he was sure Austria could breathe.

“There we go. Now, how much longer do you think your supply lines can hold out? Your siege is failing, isn’t it?” Prussia purred reverently, stroking his thumb over Austria’s cheek. “Don’t be shy.”

A weak cough rattled Austria’s chest and blood dripped down his chin. He swallowed thickly, eyes blurry with tears. “You’re a child playing at war… You know nothing of this.”

“Obviously, I know quite enough. Otherwise you wouldn’t be in this position, would you?” Prussia sneered, “Why don’t you climb down from your high horse and join us where you belong?” He said, punctuating it by forcing the Austrian’s open wounds into the dirt of the floor.

“Knowing the theory and knowing the fight are two vastly different things. You’ll kill me by accident because you’re unable to control yourself.”

Prussia made a sound of frustration, digging blunt nails into Austria’s cheek in what might have been misconstrued as a caress if you paid too much attention, carving little welts across his cheek. It was unnecessary, for Austria was still whimpering slightly with every single breath, but Prussia had never been one for moderation. “Ah, I have enough control to keep your pretty eyes open, Schatzi. You’re too valuable, and much too fun to play with; there’s only so much one can do with a warm body.”

Austria let out a groan as the digging of Prussia’s knee sent pain up his spine. “You’re too heavy-handed. That’s why your only allies are my enemies, not your friends.”

“It’s almost charming how dense you are. None of us have friends, not really.”

“Don’t project onto me. I can maintain affection just as well as I can maintain hatred toward you.” Austria hissed.

“You’ve always had a tendency to get overly involved, huh? Too fucking soft,” the assailant insisted haughtily, punctuating this statement with the sound of a knife being drawn from its holder. 

Austria shifted beneath him, trying to get some purchase with his knees, but Prussia was heavy and holding his hair like a leash. Instead, he thrashed, but that only earned him a knee to the spine.

“Coward. Untie my hands and fight me like a man.”

“I’m not here to fight, I’m here to enjoy myself,” Prussia asserted, settling down comfortably on his back, “the more you squirm the more likely I am to cut you by accident, and really I much prefer doing it on purpose.”

There was a moment of quiet, before the snagging of Austria’s uniform caught his attention and he found Prussia cutting away from his jacket to his undershirt, revealing his back to the cool air of the room, pale and interrupted only by smatterings of freckles. 

“I’d think twice about damaging-“ Austria didn’t get far on that thought, his face forced into the ground again, the rapid bruising and swelling about his nose and eyes making him squeal something dreadful.

“Shall we test my anatomy knowledge? See if I was a good boy in my classes like you? I wonder if I can stab you from behind without hitting a vital organ. Or perhaps…” Prussia trailed off, and that was almost more terrifying, before the blade made contact.

It wasn’t deep enough to hit bone, but it sent red-hot pain through Austria’s body, and soon it was being dragged jaggedly over his back, tearing skin and carving a rough path.

“Prussia-“ Austria choked, a scream of protest against the floor, muffled by the blood in his mouth and flooded nose. He squirmed and kicked and thrashed against the floor, shaking his head as if it would stop.

His wide eyes peered up over his shoulder at Prussia, who was concentrating hard on his work, brows drawn together and breathing heavy, partially from the effort of keeping his charge still, and partially from the adrenaline coursing through his system. His face was alight with glee, burning in its intensity. 

As if as an afterthought, Prussia asked lowly, “Come on, Schatzi. Tell me how much longer the siege will be able to hold.”

If Austria had been able to speak, he might have done, but he was reduced to little more than choking out sobs, the floor a mess of blood, saliva, and tears. 

Prussia didn’t seem overly phased that he was gaining nothing from this, finally pulling away and regarding his work proudly. Catching Austria’s eye, he raised the dripping knife to his lips, tasting it mostly for effect. “Ah, fucking disgusting. The blood of a weakling.” He taunted, spitting it out onto the open wound.

Chest heaving with the effort of calming down, Austria trembled violently. “Prussia,” he said again, and the named man grinned.

Heaving Austria up from the floor and onto his knees, he stood behind him, regarding his work as the blood ran in rivers down Austria’s back, pooling at the base of his spine, ruined clothes hanging loosely from bony shoulders. “I’m so fucking glad you don’t lose scars when you die,” Prussia all but moaned, voice heavy and dark, “because you look so fucking good with my initials spelled out like that.”

Austria swung round to look at him at that in shock, skin pulling at the fresh wounds and tight skin. “What have you done?” He asked raggedly.

“Taught you your place, that’s what.” Prussia replied, grasping Austria’s chin roughly and maintaining the eye contact, digging his fingers into he hollows of his enemy’s cheeks, forcing his mouth open and the wounds on his temple to burn. “God, you’re such a pretty bitch. I hate you.” 

The knife appeared again, this time pressed thinly to Austria’s throat, hard enough to draw blood but nothing more. 

“See? What would Spain think of you if he could see you now. Pride of the Holy Roman Empire and not even able to defend yourself in the captivity of another state,” he rambled, squeezing Austria’s face harder, “maybe I should keep you alive, string you up and make him do it while I watch. Would you get off on that? Any excuse for him to touch you, huh?”

The answering groan of pain had Prussia tightening his grip, eyes closing and head falling back. 

“No, I think I’m far too selfish for that. I’m the only one who gets to kill you, but not until I’ve had my fun, huh? Gotta work for it, get my information, and then I’ll execute you slow enough you’ll be having nightmares for months.”

When his captive struggled and kicked limply at the floor, Prussia let out a barking laugh, nodding to himself. “That’s what I fucking thought. You don’t want me to share you either, do you? You like my full attention on you.”

Beneath him, Austria gurgled, and Prussia’s eyes finally pried open to get a look at what was causing his toy so much distress. Instead of teary eyes he instead found glassy ones, and a face totally drained of colour.

“Oh fuck.”

Caught up in the feeling of his adversary at his mercy, Prussia had forced the knife deeper and deeper, effectively slitting his throat, drowning Austria on his own blood. He pulled the knife free, but it was too late, and the realisation hit him as rivulets of blood poured down Austria’s chest.

Gripping Austria’s face harder, Prussia dug his fingers into the flesh as if inflicting more pain might keep him conscious, finding purchase in the sockets of his eyes and hollows of his cheeks.

“Fuck! Fucking look at me, bitch, fucking look at- Österreich!“

Austria made another wet, choking sound, and as his eyes slipped shut, his teeth bared in a weak grin, stained pink. He might be dead, but he’d won after all.

-

Effectively alone in the quiet chamber, Prussia threw the lifeless form of his rival into the pool of his own blood, kicking his side in a fit of rage. Cursing and swearing, Prussia did his best to get a grip on himself. At the very least, there was something cathartic about riddling Austria’s back with bullet holes. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, kudos and comments appreciated!
> 
> Most importantly, check out capi-sskk on tumblr! All inspiration for this fic comes from their incredible artwork and by extension their charactersation of Austria and Prussia. [https://capi-sskk.tumblr.com/post/620383387787608064/i-guess-im-back-from-my-break-hallo-tumblr-ill]
> 
> And also myself at Edelscribe :)


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